Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

 

‘But, how do I believe that I'm worthy?' Justin ate a few bites of his roast beef sandwich as he mulled over Brian's question.   The sourdough bread was fresh and the slight tang of the horseradish sauce gave the meat a spicy flavor.  His nostrils flared as he bit into a piece where the prep person had spread the sauce especially thick. Glancing around the quiet diner, he saw two occupied tables.  One table toward the front had a couple of teen girls giggling and looking at their phones. The other table had a lone occupant, an older gentleman with graying hair and wearing a business suit who was reading a small, local newspaper.  Brian wasn't looking at Justin. Instead, he was attacking his chicken salad with a vengeance, stabbing the lettuce and alternately mixing the concoction to locate pieces of chicken or cheese. His eyes didn't look at their surroundings or move from the bowl in front of him.  

 

In the few weeks that Justin had been meeting him at AA, Brian had appeared open to the messages of the meetings and they had talked about the concepts after the meetings.  Even tonight, they started their evening by discussing the meeting's topic, but Brian's question seemed to result in his shutting down as if he were embarrassed by his question.

 

"Brian...."  Justin said softly, wanting Brian to look at him before he started talking.  

 

Brian glanced up at Justin for a few moments, acknowledging Justin's unspoken request to talk, but then returned to his salad as if he were a starving man and hadn't eaten in days, rather than a few hours.

 

"I'd like to talk about your question,"  Justin said, not giving Brian a chance to say no.  Justin had learned that if he asked someone ‘do you want to talk about a specific statement or action'; the answer would most likely be, ‘no'.  He knew that Brian did want to talk, or he would not have asked. His avoidance of looking at Justin confirmed his reluctance to explore the topic.

 

Brian ate a few additional bites of his salad, finding the last of the chicken in the pile of lettuce in the bowl.  He wouldn't have been able to tell anyone if it was good or not, as it was an easy way to distract him and avoid talking.  He regretted his question,he knew that he was unworthy and didn't deserve good things. It appeared that Justin wasn't going to let it go unanswered.  Bracing himself for more rejection, he put down his fork and nodded. Voicing his own opinion of his worthiness seemed to be too much to ask, and he steeled himself for Justin's rejection.

 

"I drank to escape my father's rejection.  He threw me out, told me I was an abomination, and that I couldn't be his son. I felt worthless and unlovable."   Brian listened to Justin. He nodded his head but wondered what this had to do with him. "When I was drinking, his rejection didn't hurt.  I hid in the bottle of rum. Alcohol didn't care if I was gay, if I was an artist, or if I was a banker. It didn't care that I acted horribly toward a patron, slept with every guy who looked at me or trashed my studio.  In fact, my drinking just confirmed what a terrible person I was." Brian mulled the words in his mind. He thought about his own drinking. 

 

"So I drink because my parents didn't want me,"  Brian said. He was not asking a question but confirming Justin's answer.  "So every kid that has parents who reject them should be an alcoholic? That would mean there were a shit ton of alcoholics out there."

 

"There are a lot of alcoholics and people who abuse drugs, too.  But I'm not saying that every kid with shitty parents is going to end up an alcoholic or drug user. But everyone who drinks thinks they are unworthy.  That might start when they are young or it could come later in life, but it's something we all have in common," Justin felt the knot in his stomach as he remembered the rejection.  Even though it had been 3 years since his father had kicked him out, that night was forever emblazoned in his memory. The yelling, screaming, and tears were still vivid in his mind.  He still remembered wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, his father calling his a sissy, and telling him grown men don't cry. He absently rubbed his elbow where he landed when his father pushed him out the door, throwing him and his clothes on the front lawn as if he was something rotten that belonged in the trash.  He could still hear the slamming door, even three years later.  

 

"No one really liked me when I was drinking, including me, but I didn't care.  I was unlovable; my father told me so. It didn't matter that I was an artist and recognized as an up and coming talent to watch.  All that mattered was that my father thought I was unworthy because I was gay," Justin said as the familiar pang of rejection rumbled through his chest.  He hoped his words were resonating in Brian.  

 

"At the meeting everyone who talked shared their experiences with rejection and feelings of worthlessness.  As Teri said, we all are using alcohol to escape the pain of rejection," Justin said, hoping that Brian was actually listening to their conversation. Justin had barely touched his food and heard the rumble of his stomach protesting.  He grinned at Brian as the loud growl emanated from his midsection. After eating a few bites of his burger and drinking some water, he said, "Brian, walking in the door to attend your first AA meeting was your subconscious telling you that you were worthy.  If you didn't want to be a good father to Gus and keep him safe, you would still be drinking today."

 

Brian shook his head in disagreement. "To me, walking into the first meeting just showed everyone how pathetic my life had become," Brian said.

 

"Sure, you wrapped your car around a tree, but you wanted a better life.  You wanted to be sober so you wouldn't worry that you might hurt Gus. That action was taking care of you.  You decided that you were worth being sober, being safe." Justin smiled at Brian. He heard the bell on the door jingle as the older gentleman left the diner.  Looking around, he saw that the teenage girls had also vacated the building. It was just the two of them in the dining area. The hum of the fluorescent light buzzed in the background.  The waitress was at the other end of the dining room, sitting at a table, surrounded by half-filled and empty salt and pepper shakers. Appearing intent on her job of filling all the containers, it gave them a semblance of privacy.  

 

"Attending AA makes me worthy. That's a crock of shit," Brian said.  He was so used to denigrating his worth, he had difficulty believing Justin.  He played with the water glass, twirling it in his hand. The sweat from the condensation on the glass hiding the clamminess from his hand.  

 

"Why does Lindsay bring Gus to spend the night with you?" Justin asked, hoping to show Brian that he was worthy.

 

"What has Gus got to do with this conversation?"  Brian bristled at the mention of Gus. He wanted his son out of the conversation, especially when it had to do with his drinking.

 

"Work with me, Brian.  You've told me your history with Lindsay.  She has the desire for the three of you making a model family. She can't have that since you don't want to be married, nor do you want a female partner."  Justin paused, watching Brian nod in agreement.

 

"Sure, I'll go with that statement.  Once she had Gus, she was always after me to get to know my son.  ‘He needs to know his father, Brian. You need to spend time with him. I need money for x,y, or z.  You want Gus to have the best. Ad nauseam."

 

"Lindsay wants you to be in Gus' life.  Mind you, she definitely sounds like she has ulterior motives, wanting the white picket fence and all, but ultimately she has pushed for you to have a relationship with your son.  She can't think you are a terrible person if she wants you to be involved with Gus," Justin said.

 

The bell on the front door rang and a young couple came in.  The sign at the front door had been changed to tell the patrons to seat themselves.  Looking around the diner, they chose the far end of the dining area, seating themselves at the opposite end from Brian and Justin.  Justin noticed them walking in and was thankful they chose to be seated on the other end of the dining room. He didn't want Brian to shut down again, giving the excuse of being overheard.  

 

"But I know she would forbid me to see Gus if she knew that I wrapped my car around a tree.  She would tell me that I couldn't be trusted to not repeat the action if Gus were with me. So your example is flawed,"  Brian said, lowering his eyes away from Justin's face.  

 

"Brian, we are not having the same conversation.  Please look at me," Justin said, deciding that he needed to use a different tactic.

 

Reluctantly, Brian did as Justin asked.  

 

"I don't know your friends, and only know them from what you have shared with me.  They may be horrible people or they may be the best friends in the world. But I do know myself.  I've lived with me for 28 years, and am an expert on my behavior." Justin smiled.

 

Brian laughed too.  

 

"I know that you are worthy.  If I didn't think you were worth my time, I wouldn't be here with you.  I've been in your shoes, felt the despair and worthlessness, but I can tell you the first step to loving yourself is to walk through that meeting room door.  You want a better life, a life where you aren't afraid of hurting people you care about. I can't speak for anyone but me and I say you are definitely worthy."

 

Brian could not argue with that statement.  Justin didn't have history with him as the ‘family' did.  He couldn't point to the time that Brian did this or came late to an event.  He couldn't argue that he was unreliable either. In the two plus weeks that Justin had been his sponsor he had been on time to every meeting and never missed any of them.  

 

"But you've only known me for a little over two weeks.  They've all known me for years and I can tell you I'm not the person you think I am.  I have sex with any man that even seems remotely interested, In fact, I typically have sex 4-5 times a day.  According to my friends, that is my main reason to live: get my dick sucked and get off as many times as I can.  They say I only think with my cock," Brian half boasted, trying to throw Justin off his statement and admit that Brian Kinney was the stud that everyone thought he was.  He wanted Justin to admit that his only worth was what he could do for a trick in bed.  

 

"Brian, I'm not going to get into a pissing contest with you.  I can only judge you by our conversations and your attendance at AA.  If you weren't serious, I doubt you would have altered your lifestyle so drastically.  You haven't been to the clubs in several weeks, you are obviously abstaining several hours a day so you can attend a meeting, and it appears that you are moving forward with the program as evidenced by your disposal of the liquor in your home.  If you weren't serious about this, you would have stopped attending long ago." The waitress came by to refill their water glasses and pour more coffee. Justin covered his cup with his hand, but Brian motioned for her to refill his coffee. 

 

Brian made a big production of opening one creamer and taking two packets of sugar from the sugar packet caddy.  He slapped the packets three times and then meticulously opened them, pouring their contents into his cup. Picking up his spoon, he stirred the liquid several seconds, and then placed his spoon on the saucer that held the cup.  He drank several sips of his coffee and then placed the cup on top of the saucer.  

 

Justin recognized that Brian was done with this particular conversation.  He didn't have to verbalize his thoughts, his failure to offer a rebuttal to Justin's latest observation was sufficient for Justin.  

 

"I'm curious.  What made you decide to throw away your liquor.  When we talked yesterday, the thought hadn't occurred to you,"  Justin asked, genuinely curious. He hoped that changing the subject to a less explosive topic would make Brian more comfortable.  The last thing he wanted to do was to get him angry, as he was still very vulnerable to relapse. Justin had been witness to too many tales of remorse from attendees at AA meetings.   

 

He could see the small intimate circle of anonymous attendees as they gathered for support to battle their demons and master their addictions.  The leader of the group would ask if anyone had anything to share, or if there were any newcomers. Someone would start talking, but their eyes wouldn't focus on one person for more than a few seconds.  After about 20 seconds, their eyes would dart around the group, hoping to see the slight nod of a head acknowledging the attendee's acceptance of their backslide. The hope that they were not the first one to have slipped, and the desire to still be accepted even if they had failed in their journey.  

 

The person would start to talk, ‘I'd been doing really well, working the program, attending meetings, and then my "ex" showed up and demanded money.  I got so mad and I just thought I'd have one drink to calm my nerves. Drinking had always helped in the past. Of course, one drink led to two and then two led to... well, needless to say that most of the bottle of Vodka was gone by night's end.'  

 

That particular monologue had numerous versions, but the similarity in all of them was obvious.  The person had been doing well, but had not learned to handle their emotions and turned to their familiar tried and true emotional crutch.   Brian was still in a vulnerable state. While he had been working the program for several weeks, he hadn't reached the next big benchmark of one month sobriety. Justin wanted him to leave their encounter on a positive note, not feeling vulnerable and putting himself in a position to backslide. 

 

Brian initially shrugged, downplaying the event.  

 

"What happened between our AA meeting and this morning?"  Justin hoped narrowing down the time frame and giving him a specific question might result in a response.  Justin finished his water and wished he hadn't waved the waitress away when she offered more coffee. Looking around the dining area, he spotted her and raised his glass, indicating he wanted a refill.  

 

"Sometimes I wish that I had chosen to attend an AA meeting closer to home," Brian said tongue in cheek.  "That way I wouldn't have 20-30 minutes to mull over our conversations and think about the stuff they talked about in meeting."  Brian drank some coffee and looked Justin directly in the eye, trying to judge his reaction. He wanted to ensure that Justin recognized his brand of humor. 

 

Justin smiled and Brian was pleased that this man didn't need an explanation of his comment. Justin understood his sarcasm.  

 

"Anyway, I thought about our discussion all the way home.  I was very excited about the possibility of returning to Babylon.  Attending AA meetings is a necessary evil. I get that I'm not going to stop drinking and stay sober by snapping my fingers.  While I'm not especially fond of all this introspection crap, I know that it's necessary." Brian was always slightly surprised when he talked to Justin.  He usually just listened to ‘the gang' when they got together. He was a part of the conversation, but apart from the interaction. He wanted Justin to know that he paid attention to their conversations, and he realized that they were key to his journey.

 

Justin nodded his head in understanding, silently encouraging Brian to continue.  

 

"Things have to change in my life if I'm going to be successful.  Up to this point, I'd stopped going to Babylon and Woody's, and I attended meetings every day.  Those are huge changes in my daily routine, but I realized I needed to start making some additional ones.  I don't drink at work unless I'm taking a client to lunch or dinner, and then it is one drink."

 

The waitress came by their table again.  "Can I get you any dessert?"  

 

Justin picked up the menu from the edge of the table and previewed the options.  "I'd like the Lemon Meringue pie," he said as he placed the menu back in the caddy.

 

"No thanks.  I would like more coffee, and I've used the last of the creamer," Brian said as he pointed to the empty condiment caddy.

 

"I'll be right back with your dessert.  We are brewing a fresh pot, and as soon as it is finished, I'll refill your cup.  I'll get you some creamers now." The waitress left.

 

"I hadn't thought about the liquor in my cabinet until yesterday. After closing the door and setting the alarm, I walked straight to the liquor cabinet and investigated its contents.  It was automatic. I wasn't reacting to anything that happened; I just thought I'd like a drink. Your comments hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't need liquor in my house. Having it there would just be an easy way to drink, and I need to make it harder."

 

"So getting rid of the liquor will cut down future temptations," Justin said.

 

"Yes.  Sure, I could just get in my car and go to the store, buying whatever I felt like drinking that night. Having easy access to a bottle in my home ups the chance that I will drink."

 

"I'm glad that you are making changes and starting to think about how alcohol fits in your life."

 

The waitress brought Justin's pie, refilled Brian's coffee, as well as brought creamer cups to refill the caddy.  Justin took several bites of his pie and licked his lips in satisfaction.

 

"Did you trade pie for liquor?  You look like you just took a hit of Ecstasy and are blissed out."

 

Justin shook his head.  "The pie is just really good.  I told you they make excellent desserts. I have a sweet tooth."

 

"I can't imagine eating Lemon Meringue.  My teeth are dissolving just looking at it. There's got to be 35 grams of sugar in a piece that size."

 

"Says the man who puts three packets of sugar into every cup of coffee," Justin said, calling Brian on his mock indignation.

 

"Point taken. One addiction at a time."

 

Smiling at Brian, Justin took another bite of pie and made an exaggerated sound of bliss.  He drank some water.  

 

"I've got to head out.  Got an early morning meeting with my agent.  She wants to see my new canvases for my next show, and my studio is across town.  Unlike me, she is an early riser, and wants to meet at 9:00."

 

Brian looked for the waitress and located her at the back corner of the diner.  Making eye contact, he motioned for her to bring their check. He finished his coffee, tasting the sweetness and grinned as he acknowledged Justin's comment about the sugar content of his drink.

 

"Here's your check gentleman. Come again."

 

Brian picked up the check and placed a $20.00 on the table and handed the check to Justin.  Justin placed a $20.00 as well on the table and both men walked to the door.  

 

"Tomorrow?" Justin asked.

 

"Sure. I always enjoy self examination of my innermost thoughts," Brian said.

 

Justin laughed.  "Of course you do.  No one's ever dug around the mind of Brian. Personally, I enjoy our little talks."  They walked to Justin's car and both men got in.

 

Justin started the car, and drove toward where Brian left his car.  "All kidding aside, Brian. Talk to your friend Ted. He's been in recovery for a while.  I bet he would have some great insights into worthiness. I think you'd be surprised."

 

Brian nodded his head and got out of the car. "Later," he said as he cursed Justin under his breath.  Luckily, he had a whole 30 minutes of drive time ahead of him. Maybe that would be sufficient time to mull over Justin's comments.  Otherwise, it might be another long night of thinking.

 

TBC





 

Chapter End Notes:

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